Taking Wing
by yellow 14
Summary: Muggle AU. When Harry's struggling business is offered a new job, he meets someone who has an unexpected effect on him. Written for The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition Round 3.


Disclaimer: Just so you know, by reading this disclaimer, you acknowledge that the Harry Potter universe is mine! Mine I tell you! Oh wait, it doesn't work that way. No I don't own.

AN: Written for The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition Round 3. This is a muggle AU story.

AN2: In 1964, cholera broke out in India as a part of the seventh cholera pandemic. My story is set around July 1965.

The middle engine on Harry's aircraft coughed dubiously and Harry glared at it. It coughed and spluttered before running smoothly. He tapped the instrument panel and smiled.

"That's better," he said and he opened the throttle of his Savoia-Marchetti SM.79 Sparviero. The engine coughed once more, but the aircraft took off without any trouble. Harry leaned back in his pilot's seat and promptly wished he hadn't. The once comfortable seating was coming apart and the springs were beginning to poke through. One in particular was coming right in his spine. He leaned forward and made a mental note to at least try fixing the seating.

"Hey, Harry mate, you there?" a familiar voice called over the radio and Harry smiled.

"Yes, I'm here," he replied as he pressed the transmit button. "So what's the job Dung?"

"Can't a chap call his best friend?" Mundungus Fletcher's voice sounded almost hurt. Almost being the operative word. Harry knew better. He smiled and hit the transmit button once more.

"Dung, you ONLY call when you have a job. A private and normally of dubious legality job," Harry replied, before wincing slightly. "This had better not get me in trouble. Again."

"Harry mate, I swear I didn't know about that stash of dodgy par-"

"Get to the point Dung. I don't want any excuses," Harry cut in. Mundungus might have been good at getting jobs for his struggling little airline, but that didn't mean he wanted to listen to his excuses.

"This one's a legit job, I swear. It's from this businessman who's feeling a bit guilty. Wants to give a little back to the home country, know what I mean?" he paused for a minute, before continuing. "There's an outbreak of cholera back in his home town and he's paying for medicine and a doctor to come and treat the locals."

"That's it?" Harry asked in disbelief and there was a crackling on the radio.

"Since when have I lied to you? Come on Harry, there's some really good money involved, enough to even replace that antique you insist on flying."

Harry patted the instrument panel affectionately and leaned forward.

"He doesn't mean it old girl. He's just…unappreciative," he murmured to the aircraft. The middle engine simply coughed dubiously, but otherwise continued to run normally. Harry gave another appreciative pat and smiled gently.

"Just keep going my love and I'll give you that overhaul you really need," he said and he leaned back into his seat once and followed with a chuckle. He leaned over the instrument panel once more.

"And I'll replace your damn seats too," he added and sat up to concentrate on his flying.

**HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP**

"There you are Harry my man," Mundungus Fletcher said cheerfully as Harry stepped out of his aircraft. He threw an arm around Harry's shoulders as he spun on his heel. "I know you are goin' to luv this contract." Harry raised his eyebrow dubiously. When Mundungus Fletcher said that he was going to 'love' a new contract, it generally tended to mean anything but. Mundungus however continued talking as though Harry hadn't responded.

"You see mate, if this job goes off raht, yoo and I could be bigger than Malfoy Air Transport Industry Group," Mundungus continued and Harry frowned. Malfoy Air Transport Industry Group were at least twice the size of Harry's own struggling little airline and boasted far more modern aircraft.

"Dung, who's paying for this? Really paying for this, not some cock and bull story about a businessman doing this privately."

"Harry mate, have I ever given you reason to doubt m-"

"Yes," Harry said, cutting Mundungus off quickly. Mundungus looked at him with puppy-dog eyes. Harry simply rolled his.

"Honestly Harry mate, I come to you with the biggest j-"

"Biggest job that involves you not being straight with me," Harry cut in sharply. "Last time I did that, I ended up having to bribe my way out of a smuggling charge. So what aren't you telling me Dung?"

Mundungus squirmed under Harry's fierce gaze. It was almost uncomfortable to watch. Unfortunately for him, Harry wasn't about to let him off the hook so easily.

"Well…it's not exactly an Indian businessman supplying the money and medicines…" Mundungus started, fidgeting uncomfortably. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Is this a drug run?" Harry asked baldly and a look of horror crossed Mundungus's face.

"Drugs!? Drugs!?" he spluttered, genuinely shocked this time. "Yoo think I'm stupid enough to deal with that shit? I guess I should find ano-"

"You don't have anyone else Dung, just me," Harry pointed out flatly. A sulky expression came over Mundungus's face. "Come on mate, I didn't drop you in it after that last fiasco. All I'm asking is that you be straight with me."

"Well…that Indian gent I was talking about…he's not so much funding, but…funnelling the money and medicine and stuff," Mundungus said and Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Funnelling?" he asked and Mundungus smiled.

"Yeah, funnelling," he said, before continuing. "See the people who are supplying the money and stuff aren't too keen to advertise what they're doing."

"And who are they Dung?" Harry asked and Mundungus grimaced.

"Promise you won't shout at me?"

"Dung…"

"It's from the Chinese government," he admitted and a look of revulsion crossed Harry's face.

"Politics!" he sniffed contemptuously. "It's not just medical supplies, is it?" he asked rhetorically, before continuing. "No, there'll be political books and shit."

"Well yeah, but there's a real outbreak out there," Mundungus said, handing Harry a local newspaper. It was written in Urdu, but Harry had mastered the language some time ago. He scanned the article and frowned.

"Cholera," he finally said after a few minutes of silence. "Why didn't you just say?"

"Well…I know how you feel about it," Mundungus said uneasily. "I thought you might be a little…difficult. After what happened to Ginny."

"Time is of the essence. How soon can your supplier get here?" Harry asked, almost as though Mundungus hadn't said anything. Ginny was a somewhat sensitive subject as far as Harry was concerned.

"They're almost here mate. All they need is for me to give them the go ahead and they'll be here in ten minutes," Mundungus said. "Cheers Harry man, you're a star."

"Harry, are you sure this is a good idea?" Ron asked from behind him and Harry shrugged. "Dung isn't exactly good on the straight and narrow path. And I don't want to get caught up in his shit again."

"Yeah, but…" Harry waved his arm at the airfield around them. It wasn't much, just a rough and ready concrete runway that had seen better days, a handful of old USAAF hangers and buildings and two elderly planes dating back to the second world war. "We need the money and besides, Dung has his limits."

A rumbling sound interrupted them and four unmarked six wheeled trucks rolled into the compound. Within minutes they had unloaded their cargo and in less than half an hour they were in the air.

One of the doctors, a young woman with long black hair and unlike her companions, Indian features came up to Harry in the cockpit.

"Thank you. For doing this," she said and Harry gave her a smile.

"Not a problem. I've seen what Cholera can do," he replied sadly. "Might I ask what you're doing with a Chinese group?"

The woman laughed, lighting up her pretty face.

"I joined the Communist party when I was in China. They sponsored my education through university and because I know this country better than anyone else they had available, they asked for me to come," she paused for a moment, a thoughtful expression on her face. "You could say they want me to spread the word." Harry raised an eyebrow and the woman continued. "Communism offers the world a fairer way of existing. No more inequality or wasted opportunities through lack of decent funding or money. An equal share for everyone. You've seen just how poor this country can be. We can change that for the better."

"Ideals are all well and good, but I don't trust utopian ideas," Harry told her bluntly with a frown.

"Well perhaps I can convince you with our actions," the girl replied with a smile as the town they were here to help came into view. The reason for the spread of the disease was obvious from the air. The ground below was littered with shanty-town style structures, perfect for the spread of the disease.

"Strap yourself into your seat, we're landing soon," he told her. The girl turned, but before she left, she turned and looked at Harry.

"We can discuss this another time," she said, extending her hand. "I'm Doctor Patil. Padma Patil."

"Harry Potter," Harry replied as he took her hand and shook it. And as he started the landing process, he licked his lips and smiled. He was always happy to have an excuse to talk to a pretty woman like her and she had just given him a perfect excuse.

AN: Originally this was going to be longer, but sadly real life got in the way


End file.
